Rainbow Thoughts
by Leafy Lincoln
Summary: When you're cursed, it leaves a lot of time to think over things. Arcobaleno centric.
1. The Stuntman

He banged the wrench against the metal surface of the sport motorcycle in frustration. However, going against the logic of the action, the violence didn't seem to help the already damaged vehicle. In fact, it made an even greater dent in the purple-colored protective metal.

With a curse the owner of the sad looking vehicle threw the wrench behind him, not even twitching as a loud bang erupted as the object came in contact with the conveniently placed tool box, clanging with the numerous tools already jumbled inside. Instead the young man walked around the bike, not taking a glance at the scratched plating that was undoubtedly from a failed run, and slumped in a cushioned chair next to an extremely large fish tank. He leaned across the chair, propping his elbow on the armrest, as he brought up his long fingers and tapped rhythmically against the clear glass to an unheard tune.

There was no surprise present on his pale face when an octopus with a crimson hue and about the size of his head swayed toward the teen almost gracefully. It scattered the few small fish that inhabited the small aquarium by its presence.

"Hey there Oodako… How are you doin', buddy?" came the casual greeting, along with a single hard knock on the glass that abruptly ended the internal melody.

The squelches produced by the sea creature that answered said question brought a smile to the purple stained lips of his companion. He chuckled, watching his squirmy friend spin around, twisting in odd and flexible shapes.

"It must be nice. You know, being so carefree and uncaring of the world around you." The octopus continued its twirling, altering the direction of its smooth movements every so often. The man sighed in envy. "Sometimes I wish I could be like that. Just hop on my bike and ride away without ever looking back." The irritated glare sent at the uncooperative bike proved his dilemma.

Oodako stopped its moving and let one of its many tentacles rest on the glass separating the two. The other smiled, making the tear drop design on his cheek move.

"Of course I would bring you along too. You'd keep my scrawny little ass out of trouble, 'cause you're the most dependable, powerful best friend a guy could ask for."

The red sea creature puffed out in size momentarily, in pride no doubt. Then it curled in two of its tentacles toward its frame.

"Oops. Sorry. And the most handsome friend I have." The teens' smiled seemed so ready to come out in front of the aquatic animal. His purple eyes closed shut momentarily as he laughed lightly and continued on, "You're definitely not modest though. But, hey, who needs that when you have the looks?"

His small smile turned into a full blown grin and there was a mutual agreement between the two as the human half of the pair said, "Skull and Oodako, kicking ass and taking names." The teen joked. "No one would be safe with us on the loose."

Then, Skull had a sudden, random afterthought.

"Oodako… Do you think I'm powerful?" The purple-haired teen asked, hesitant at first, but eventually going through with the question.

Oodako stopped moving for a moment, instead just floating there in the water. Turning awkwardly, it could almost be said that the main body almost looked like the shape of a person tilting their head to the side, as if asking, 'What brought this on, my dear fellow?'. It was like someone's confusion at their friend questioning his or her worth; as it was something that not many answered lightly, nor brought up too often.

"I mean, compared to everyone else…" Skull explained. His head turned downward to face his nonjudgmental pants, suddenly engrossed in the task of picking lint off the article of clothing. He didn't look up until the sound of squeals reached his ears. When those purple eyes of his did glance up they found Oodako rubbing its long body against the glass in fervor, creating squeaks.

"Really? Or are you just saying that because you have too?" A mini whirlpool was created as the octopus shook its body in indignation.

"But how can you say that? You've seen the others. You've seen their strength and-and… their awesomeness!" His lean arms shot up toward the heavens with the last statement, emphasizing his point of incredibility.

"I mean, Verde has his brains and doesn't even need a weapon or anything. He's got that creepy as shit smile of his when he gets an idea." A shiver passed over the two companions as an image of said scientist's smile was brought to minds. But still, the young man kept on. "Stupid Reborn has his hitman abilities and whatnot. And Luce…"

He trailed off into silence as he remembered her premature death. His hand clutched the fabric of his shirt where it covered his pained, throbbing heart. Though he would never admit it to anyone on how much he missed her, it was a horrible fact that he would never again be able to see her kind, comforting face, accompanied with its big, trusting eyes. She was the only one out of all the other Arcobaleno that actually care to take notice of him as something more than a young, reckless, ignorant stuntman(even if he was exactly that), and that itself made him think of her as someone close. He would always remember her and know her as the loving motherly figure that he always dreamed of. If he was at all the poetic type he might even say that the world had lost an angel- but he wasn't and would never say that. Out loud anyway.

He shook away the depressing feeling that was washing over him and pressed on, "And why would anyone even want to learn how to make illusions like Viper? One mistake and you might be stuck in one forever. Never knowing if life was real or not." Skull chilled at just thinking about the prospect of living that kind of lie. "and it's obvious for Fon- he can take out anybody with that karate crap going on. Then there's Lal with her hormonal punches, and that stupid idiot Colonnello at her side like a puppy. But damn, they can fight dirty! They aren't afraid to hit where it hurts too!"

His voice went up an octave at the last sentence, gathering his legs and wrapping his arms around them protectively. Oodako twisted up in a disfigured fashion, illustrating his discomfort.

"Also," The teen added, and annoyed look flashing across his face, setting his chin on his knees. "they're older than me, so they always pull the 'you're-just–a-kid' shit." He narrowed his eyes, scrunching up his nose as if smelling something rancid. It was clear that he didn't at all like that.

"Well, so what if I'm younger than those old farts?" He asked abruptly, to the world in general, not expecting a response to be given. "They're just a bunch of smartasses who think they're better than everyone.

With an agreeable sound coming from Oodako, Skull got out of the chair, calling back 'thanks for the talk' at his sea friend, and strut to his pitiful vehicle. Putting his into the ignition, he grabbed the right handlebar. He pulled the choke all the way back, setting the kill switch to RUN, turned the key and squeezed the clutch with his entire grip.

He held down the start button.

The engine of the poor thing choked and released out a good amount of black smoke, but it did nothing else but stall. With no mercy the young man brought his foot back and slammed it against the innocent bike. And miraculously, the engine sputtered, eventually growling in life.

The owner nodded his head in appreciation as he brought his read end on the seat of the motorbike with his heel, saying, "Sometimes all it needs is some TLC." He tore off the protective gear, tossing it aside, keeping only the crash cage on. As for himself, he put on his signature helmet branding an image of Oodako. As usual his purple jumpsuit was as elastic and stylish as ever.

Then, without a moment to doubt, he burst out of the garage in a fury of purple. He leaned forward, almost urging the vehicle to move faster, faster, faster. The speeds he was reaching would make any grown man squeal in fright. Idly, he checked the speedometer, the needle playing at the hundreds, and still rising.

He steered himself toward a circular dirt track to the left of the garage. Soon the brown color of the soil was all he saw through the visor of his helmet as he tore through the paths. His movements went along with those of his bike, the steady up and down rhythm of riding. Every turn was accompanied by his leaning to one side, so far that his body was almost parallel to the ground. And when they were riding air he would leans a particular way and the bike would follow like a loyal companion. However, after a while the exhilaration just wasn't enough for the adrenaline junky.

With a simple jump over the tine fence that indicated the boundary of the track, the biker was soon driving on solid concrete. Skull rode on seemingly endless road for mere moments, still at those extreme speeds, when he brought up the front wheel. Bringing it up so far back that his right hand squeezed down constantly on the brakes, as to make sure him and his bike didn't continue their path backwards and into the unsympathetic ground.

A whoop of joy escaped his lips, though muffled by the helmet.

Then, without thought, the stunter released the brake and shoved his entire weight forward. They slammed onto the ground with the force of gravity on their side. And using the momentum the stunter pushed the motorbike forward even more, bringing up the back wheel this time around. Skull felt the blood start rushing to his head as he performed the nose-wheelie, clearly guessing that the color of his face was that of a ripe tomato. And because of that small and uncomfortable fact he didn't stay in that position for long, but instead righted the bike to its standard state. Then, for a while, the young man and his bike just strolled down the road, which ran all through the massive compound that housed the two, enjoying the feeling of the air pounding pass them.

If one would travel into the mind of the risk-taker that is Skull one would find a frustrating amount of thoughts. The majority of them concerning the conversation he had earlier with his best friend.

Was he really the weakest of all the Arcobaleno as the others mentioned time and time again? Was he fit to hold the pacifier? How was he supposed to use the power that was entrusted to him and what was it exactly? Did the mysterious checkered man choose wrong when picking him? That last question hit him pretty hard.

Why did the checkered man pick him? Why him out of all people?

There were countless other stunt men out in the world. And- not that he would mention it to anyone's face- a good handful of them were worth looking into. Granted, it would be hard to find someone who could cheat Death like he did, but he knew it could be done and there had to be others with similar abilities as he.

So, why him?

What set him apart from the rest of the world and its billions of inhabitants?

He could almost feel his head start swelling from all those thoughts, threatening to shatter his helmet in its outward thrust. A headache was brought into existence as he tried to dispel all thoughts not concerning stunts. After a while he just stopped trying.

"Fuck it."

The handlebars jolted as he abruptly yanked them to the right, effectively turning the motorcycle around in a compete U-turn. Smoke erupted from the spot where the concrete met the wheels of his bike as he made his way back to his garage.

So what if there were numerous other people who were stronger than him? So what if they questioned him, his reasons, his motives? So what if he didn't meet up with their standards? Screw them and their standards. Frankly, he didn't give a damn.

As it turned out, he didn't care what they thought, or anyone for that matter. They didn't know what he did, couldn't think like he did, and couldn't do what he did. Reborn could shoot bullets, Viper could make illusions, Colonnello, Fon and Lal could throw a couple of good punches, and Verde could think all he wanted; but none of them were able to take the risks he did. He doubted they would ever have the guts to do what he did on a daily basis. Offer his life, soul, and very existence to Death himself every time he set a foot outside. To have the nerve to test Death and push it to the limits with no care of what happens in the aftermath.

Yes, every so often one of them would bring up the fact that he didn't take every risk that presented itself to him, as a _real_ stuntman should. To that he merely walked away (that is, if he didn't yell at them in his own defense first).

Choosing which risks to take was a risk all by itself.

Something he originally thought they would comprehend, them being as dangerous as they are, but he gave up hope when they never did. But it didn't matter. He was Skull and they were not.

And it was as simple as that.

He was him. And they were not.

He was Skull. Skull from Hell. Skull, the cheater of Death. None of them could brag of that.

It didn't matter how they thought of him. It didn't matter if they were, not that he was admitting it completely, stronger than him. He was chosen because he was strong. Because he was himself. And that counted for something.


	2. The Scientist

Everything was about calculations. Calculations and statistics. That's what could be trusted, to be counted on.

Nothing else was consistent.

Nothing.

Well, there was his intelligence. But then again, wasn't that just calculations. Geniuses were made from knowledge, knowledge that could only come into existence from facts, experimentation, and results. That was what life was truly about, hypotheses and conclusions. He once had a hypothesis that people and such could be counted on, but his conclusion proved it to be false. Wrong. Incorrect. Mistaken.

You couldn't even count upon them to not die. Whether it was to stay cautious to avoid a stupid and tragic ending or to carry on with their injury- holding onto life for just a bit longer to receive a healing- people had a tendency to die. He had met many that had met their end by their own mistake and others who had met theirs by the mistakes of others. Even those that were supposedly close, whose trust one another was limitless and gave each other their lives, ultimately lost them. Urging and praying did nothing, as one would be putting faith and trust to another. And that was a mistake only an amateur made. They would ignore logic, throw it aside and then die a stupid and insignificant death. Just as the data said they would.

No, calculations and conclusions and statistics were all he could count on. They stayed true and consistent. Nothing else did.

He sighed. He tossed the papers he was holding onto the cold, steely table he was currently sitting at. They slid across, one or two of the papers precariously close to the edge. He ignored them. They were only filled with data that wasn't worth taking the time to examine. It was already something he knew, but the results that others had written. The information was useless, just as the people were.

The only thing people were good at was being test subjects. Nothing else.

Testing a prototype, observing scenarios and reactions- that was what people were good for. If he wanted to see behavioral patterns, test subjects were needed and that's all they were to him- test subjects. Organisms that only aided in the scientific process.

It was slightly funny when they became unnerved by his demeanor. Their reactions were something he'd observe and analyze later, but at the moment it occurred it amused him. Sometimes, just to determine what would happen, he'd do something quite unnecessary and unsettling to them, watching them squirm about. It could almost put a smile to his face. Almost.

Glancing at the papers that he had tossed once more, he swiveled his chair away, to look upon something more useful. All there was to observe was more steel desks, all cluttered with papers, folders, vials, and other similar things. Feeling bored he took time, as he always did when distant minded, to study the white tiled floor and the white walls. Colorless and boring as always. Another constant.

He stared at the blank walls, finding an organization in them that the rest of the world lacked.

It was all boring. What was one to do when given the time, if there was no one to use?

Speaking on being used, he wondered if he could abduct the little stuntman kid and execute some more tests on his body, this time the factors being more specific. His supposed extreme durability was interesting to say the least, but it couldn't be possible that the ignorant and immature teenager would've been able to somehow obtain total invincibility. And if so, then the kid's past had to be explored. Verde lightly tapped his fingers along the edge of his desk, his mind racing, trying to think of all the infinite things he could do with the secret of this intense durability, the number of inventions he could create.

But if he had to hear the kid whine about how he was being kidnapped just like the last time he did it, it wasn't even worth it. Even with his patience, he couldn't deal with the kid for more than an hour or two. And that included the time he was experimenting. The whole time he was testing the limits of the stuntman's "Undead Body", he had to put in ear plugs to silence the ever constant complaining and whining that came from the kid's mouth.

No, he wouldn't scare the kid even more. Besides, now that Verde thought about it, the kid was pathetic and uninteresting.

Were the other Arcobaleno interesting enough to have him bother with them at this point? Neither of the two COMSUBIN soldiers were any fun, as they had no brains unless it concerned combat. The pathetic illusionist, whatever gender it was, hadn't done anything worth getting him to care. Fon, the forever peaceful, wouldn't be tricked or kidnapped that easily, so he was out. Luce was out of the picture, leaving only a useless child in her wake. Now the only one that was left was Reborn.

Now that hitman was truly an interesting being. Not only was he a fighter, but he manipulated people just as easily as Verde did. Manipulation of others was a clear sign of someone who was smart enough to make use of the imbeciles surrounding themselves; they were in charge of the situation. Verde knew about manipulation, as he did it often.

He made an audible sigh. But Reborn would have nothing to do with him; the hitman had made that clear. If he were to even show a hint of interest, Reborn would be alerted by some means that Verde found insignificant. The same was true for the little, pathetic Vongolia boss and his playmate friends; any interest in them and Reborn would undoubtedly have a barrel to the back of his head ready to pull the trigger. And yet, that was what made them so _fascinating_, as Reborn rarely put his full support and trust into people, and only those with potential were even considered by him. Yes, he was asked to train the successors, but he would only do it to the little monkeys who he felt was worth it.

Despite Verde's slight _complication_ with the hitman, he was forced to admit that his judgment was appraisable.

Now back to the original problem. So much time with no subject to aid his search for answers. No one understood his need for knowledge. That is, with the lone exception of Keiman.

The alligator lay on the cool ground, just as he always did, sharp eyes trained on him. Every movement, whether it be a flick of the hand or his shoulders shifting as he breathed, was watched. Those bright green eyes analyzed him, just as he would it. They often stood there, motionless, staring at one another, challenging the other to stop their surveillance; a battle of the wits.

He was an extraordinary companion, one couldn't ask for a better one.

Verde lazily walked across the room, the heels of his shoes making sharp clips as it connected to the ground, and opened the freezer stationed in the very corner of the room. No one aside from himself ever went near it and he didn't think anyone would if Keiman had anything to say about it. The air chilled him as he reached inside and pulled out a cool slab of meat, raw and fresh. He closed the door, restoring everything to its pristine and constant conditions, and turned around.

Unsurprisingly, Keiman has silently crawled his way after the lanky man, already aware of what would happen. His jaws opened wide to reveal razor-sharp teeth lining his gums. A sound close to a hiss, yet not quite that tame, escaped his throat, and, from Verde's observation, he could clearly see that his companion was already salivating quite a bit. Those green eyes of his glanced momentarily at the scientist before zoning in on the precious meat clasped in his hand. His scaly appendages halted in their movement completely, waiting.

With a flick of his wrist Verde sent the chuck of meat flying, aimed directly at Keiman. The alligator launched himself up a few inches to ensure the safe arrival of his meal into his jaw and snapped the thing right out of the air. There was no chewing- just a single, efficient swallow.

Something close to a smile slivers its way onto Verde's normally blank face. However, he had time to realize this and wiped it away before the 0.0000000000000001 probability of someone seeing it can become a reality. He enjoyed the company of his reptile, but that didn't mean he would display anything more than content to the outside world.

The same would fare for the other individuals that he associated himself with- he would have to remind himself of that. Despite his interest in a select few, he would inhibit himself from growing too close and too attached. Attachment led to trust which led to fluctuations in calculations and that couldn't be trusted.

He forced his mind to switch to a more appropriate thought process, one that included experimentation and equations. Of numbers and variables. A hand came up to rub his chin thoughtfully, ignoring the light prickle of hair jutting out. Why not see what the mafia was doing? He'd surely find something there to capture his interest for the time being. No harm would be done, he was only doing research and they were only his test subjects.

Some light reflected of his glasses as he reviewed his options, giving a maniacal look to him, as the corners of his lips inch upward coldly, this smile more calculating than the previous.

Only calculations could be relied on and calculations he would get.


End file.
